Evanescence
by Merciless Angels Never Cry
Summary: "Why do you run...? Why do you fight...? You belong to me just as I belong to you, my love." Heather thought she was free from it. Free from that world. The world that longed for its lost daughter. She runs and she runs, however one man refuses to let go of his obsession. Rating may go up for later chapters.
1. Turn For The Worst

**Author's Note: **Hello! I've had this idea in my head for a while and this isn't going to be a one-shot, it'll be an on-going story. While I am still continuing "Twisted Affection" and as an actual fact this was supposed to be in it, however the Robbie-like plot bunny kept on beating me into submission with a steel pipe. Anyways, I hope you enjoy. Please review. xxx

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It was miserable.

The rain pelted down onto the windows of the apartment. The thunder gave out a small murmur before bellowing into a harsh hiss, the lightening that accompanied it illuminated the dark room for a brief second with a flash of light. The apartment itself was nothing to boast about. Plain white walls adorned by a few shelves containing books of Edgar Allen Poe's dark poetry, an old worn-down school book of Macbeth that should have been returned long ago. A beige couch sat in the middle of the room, before it decent TV and a red woolly rug underneath a glass coffee table. Magazines were scattered across the transparent surface as a rather large coffee ring stained marred its appearance.

Behind the door some shuffling could be heard. "Fuck!" Heather hissed, rummaging through her handbag as her wet hair clung to her face. After finding the keys and unlocking the door, she flicked on the light switch, letting the artificial light flood the room. She dropped her keys into the bowl nonchalantly and placed her bag on the couch. She shrugged off her drenched hoodie and threw it into the closet. She sighed as she ran her hand through her matted hair; she was getting extremely tired of stocking shelves and sitting on her ass for most of the day. Not to mention those annoying customers who think they know it all.

'The customer always knows best'. Heather snorted, "My ass!" She, regretfully, recalled the events that occurred earlier this evening.

She sat there behind the counter, exasperated as she held out the receipt to the old lady. "I'm sorry but the date has expired," Heather calmly stated, a jaded expression on her face.

The small, frail lady seethed in rage, her little frame shaking. "But the law says that it's my right to get either a refund within thirty days!"

"It's not," Heather gritted her teeth; they've been having the same argument for the past fifteen minutes. Any of the others who were waiting in queue behind her had moved on to another till. "The amount of days that are valid for returning an item is written on the receipt." She waved the flimsy piece of paper in the air, much to the old woman's annoyance.

"But the shop down the road lets you return an item within thirty days!"

"But that's their policy!" Heather raised her hands. "The policy here says that you have only twenty-eight days! I can't give you a refund because this has been expired since yesterday!"

"Is there a problem?"

Heather shrank away on her seat as her boss hovered over her.

"Your employee here has been very rude."

Heather's eyes widened. "No, I haven't!" she protested. But it didn't matter, she was forced to apologise to that miserable hag and got a lecture from that prick.

She thought life would be much easier after what happened three years ago. For God's sake; she battled through split-headed dogs, zombie nurses, rotating bladed freaks, a monstrous version of herself and, hell, fought God itself. Just like her father did twenty years ago. But still, dealing with people was as just as a pain in the ass as killing one of those fat guys that always blocked the one door that she needed to get through.

After the funeral, Douglas took care of her and acted as her legal guardian since she had no other family members. She went back to school, but only towards Christmas; she was still too raw after everything she went through. Douglas explained to the school principal that her Harry was murdered by a couple of robbers who broke into their flat. Well, it wasn't like they were going to believe them if they said that he was killed by a monster sent by some delusional religious zealot. She was sent to a school counsellor. Of course she didn't say anything apart from her father; she had already been in one crazy shithole to want to go to another.

After she graduated, she got a job in order to spare some money to go to college and moved out. She still kept in touch with Douglas, but that was every then and now. He was still doing his detective business and she also moved on. Almost.

Closing the bathroom door and slipping off her clothes, she turned on the shower. Her girlish figure was gone and had now turned into a much more fuller shape. Soft curves graced her body and her skin wasn't as blotchy as it was in her teenage years, though she still had imperfections. Her entire body was still adorned with light freckles. Stepping into the warm stream, her muscles relaxed and she enjoyed the way the constant waves of droplets pelted against her skin, almost in rhythm with the rain outside.

Once she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her, she walked towards the mirror. She bit her lip, feeling childish as she removed the piece of cloth that covered it. She stared at her reflection, her eyebrows furrowed. She kept her dyed blonde but she let it grow past her shoulders, her curls kinking up at the ends and giving soft curls on her side fringe. At first she didn't know whether to keep dying it or let it go black nor did she know whether or not to keep the name Heather or change it back to Cheryl.

But she kept telling herself that she, Cheryl and Alessa, although they were the same, were completely different. She didn't have any of Alessa's telekinesis powers, okay fair enough she _did_ have some supernatural senses but not to the extent of her former self. As for Cheryl, she was only Alessa's second part.

Heather groaned, she had every single memory that those two had along with her own; both joyful and agonising. Yet it was still so confusing and she tended not to ponder on it too much; reincarnations and forced demonic pregnancies equalled head explosions.

Drying herself off and combing her hair, she changed into her plain-looking pyjamas. The evening went on as usual; ate dinner, watched whatever was on TV and snuggled in with a packet of cheap crisps and mug of hot chocolate to watch some old comedy film. As she laughed, she could feel the air change slightly. Or was it her imagination…? Her skin came out in goose bumps and she shuddered, pulling the warm blanket close to her, a futile effort nonetheless.

The rain came in harder and the thunder roared louder. Within a few seconds, the power got cut off. "Shit," Heather breathed, sitting in complete darkness. Gingerly getting up and feeling her way around, she focused her eyes on wherever the lightening's flash hit off of. Leading her way through the kitchen, her hands grazed over the handles of the drawers, mentally picturing which one was the one she was looking for. After several failed attempts, she pulled open the right one and took out her flashlight. Switching it on, she aimed the narrow light at various dark corners.

She strolled over to her bedroom and went in under the covers. As she closed her eyes and she felt her entire beginning to drift off into the warm, blissful darkness of sleep, her ears pricked up to the sudden harsh sound of static. Frowning, she grabbed her flashlight and holding it tight, she cautiously opened the door into the living room, revealing the source of the static. The TV screen only showed 'snow' as Heather stood in front of it. Picking up the remote, she pressed the off button.

Nothing.

She tried a couple more times and when that didn't work she tried the one on the TV itself.

Still no change.

"What's going on…?" she whispered, reaching in behind and ripping out the plug.

The static only grew louder and the 'snow' became distorted. Stepping back from it and tensing up her muscles, she held out the flash light. Fear coiled itself around her spine and tugged hard, sending her into a cold sweat as her teeth chattered. At the corner of her eye, sitting on an armchair, she could see a white sheet covering a body, the grimy cloth stained with blood at the left-hand side. From where its mouth was, she could swear she saw the thin fabric flutter.

Gasping, she swivelled her body around and flashed her light at the chair.

Nothing.

Her heart started beating faster and faster. This can't be real. This can't be real. This can't be _REAL_! Not again!

The air was no longer cold, instead it became humid and it seemed to hang, lifeless in the air, choking her.

But oh no, that wasn't the worst. The walls seemed to breathe heavily and moan as footsteps skitted across the room, surrounding her. Closing her into her own fears and anxieties.

Heather's eyes widened in horror as her worst fears came to life once again. The paint on the walls began to peel off, letting blood to seep out revealing tile and wire mesh. She screamed out when the TV screen burst out, sending shards of glass to scatter across the room. She shielded herself as her entire apartment continued to change and shift into the Otherworld. The screams and howls scratched her ears as they echoed inside them.

Running over to the kitchen and grabbing a chef's knife, she readied herself for the inevitable. Turning around, her grip on the handle tightened as she expected one of those crying penis-walking monsters to start wailing their way towards her.

Damn! She better get the First Aid kit in the bathroom, just in case. Quickly making her way to the bathroom, she dived into the cabinet underneath the sink to fetch the small, yet useful box. Relieved to find it still there, she straightened herself up only to catch a quick glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her eyes were as round as saucers as she stared at the reflection of the same body covered in bloody sheets as before, hunched over and standing at the door. A chill ran down her spine as her blood turned to ice.

"Heeeeaaaatthhhhheerrrrrrr….."

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**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading. I shall get back to this as soon as possible. Please leave a review, they make me happy.


	2. No Other Way

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the lovely reviews everyone, it's always a delight to hear on what you think. As always, I hope you enjoy the story.

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Her feet seemed to be glued to the ground as she watched him swaying ever so slightly by the doorframe. She couldn't run. How can she? He was standing there by that fucking door, blocking her way. She trembled as he stepped closer to her, a covered arm outstretched as he gave a small chuckle. Heather backed away only to have the cold, hard porcelain sink dig into the small of her back.

"What do you want?" she snapped, her hands flailing by her sides as she searched, rather hoped, for something that she could use as a weapon.

"Take a guess," he teased as Heather's eyebrows knitted together. "Don't frown my dear, your lovely face will be ruined by wrinkles."

"Who are you?"

He stopped moving towards her, standing still. Heather felt uneasy as he seemed to be irritated, even angered at her question. She shivered as a sharp howl pierced the air.

"How could you have forgotten…?" he spoke softly, his voice riddled with disappointment. He paused. "Ah, how could I be so rude…? To expect you to remember me after all that you have been through…" Another pause. "Although I would've thought you'd at least remember my name, my love… After all those diary entries that I left behind for you and that doll I crafted with my own bare hands," he lifted up his arms to her. "How could you forget me so easily…?"

Heather gasped as she balled up her fists. "Stanley…?" She didn't know how, but she could sense that he was smiling underneath the sheets. "H-how did you get here?"

She could hear him click his tongue as he thought for a moment. "I can't explain that _now_, besides you don't need to worry about that tiny detail but first…" he grabbed at the sheet covering his chest, "It's time that I showed you my face."

Quickly tugging at the flimsy covers, he threw them onto the grille that was once a tiled floor and smiled at her. His skin was a deathly pale, patches of it stained with blood. His hair was a dark brown, long and matted with blood as it reached just past his shoulders. His eyes were deep-set and she couldn't tell what colour they were. He was well over six foot tall, towering over her. The only thing he wore was a hospital gown, with a dark spot on his left side where there was blood. His hair covered most of his face, but that problem was soon remedied as he swept the long bangs away with his hand. His face was dotted with rivulets of blood as his eyes seemed to shine as he beamed at her. He was quite handsome, not completely astounding but handsome for the average man.

If only he was average.

"Now we can finally be together…" He reached out to embrace her but yelped as he collapsed when Heather punched him on the side of his face. She ran past him as Stanley growled as he picked himself off the floor.

Heather screamed when she almost fell off the edge of the grille in the middle of the living room. Quickly regaining her balance, she headed towards the door, desperately trying to get out as she kept turning the door knob. She still went on with her constant twisting even when Stanley shouted her name. "Open up! Come on, come on, come on!" she begged, tears forming in her eyes, blurring her vision making her panic even more.

"Heather!" he bellowed, limping his way past the tattered couch. He nursed his cheek as his sharp eyes darted around the room looking for her. He turned around the corner to find her struggling to escape the room. He watched as she sobbed and murmured out incoherent curses under her breath. Why was she doing this…? Why was she running away from him…?

Heather gasped when she felt a large cold hand grab her shoulder and forced her to face him. She finally got a chance to see those dark green eyes, piercing her soul until nothing seemed to matter anymore. His eyes were narrowed and his lips were pulled back into a scowl. Her chin was pulled into a rough grip as his mood drastically changed from anger to joy. He leered at her. "No need to run away my love…why delay our true feelings any longer…?"

"YOU'RE CRAZY!" Heather screamed, trying to wriggle her way out of his grasp.

Rage flitted across his face. He took a handful of her hair and yanked her head back. She cried in pain as he ran his tongue across the taut skin on her neck. Heather shivered at the wet sensation and she froze when she felt his lips touch her ear. Her skin crawled as his hot, ragged breath caressed her skin. "Why must you always make things so difficult?" he rasped.

She whimpered when he yanked her head back and pushed her towards the bathroom. She couldn't help but notice blood travelling its way down whatever bits of wall was left. Stanley held her head over the sink as she tried to look at him with the corner of her eye but with no effect.

"You gave me no choice," he growled before slamming her head down onto the sink. All Heather could see was him standing over her before slipping into darkness.

Stanley gazed down at her before crouching beside her and gently stroking her cheek with his index finger. His heart was ready to burst from his overwhelming love for his goddess. As blood seeped from the large gash that was across her forehead, he wiped some off of her. Bringing his finger to his mouth he tasted her and savoured the delicious flavour. Taking out his finger with a pop, he smiled down at her, his eyes shining with delirious euphoria.

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**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed and as always please review. xxx


	3. Wake Up

**Author's Note: **A massive thanks to those who reviewed the last time, they were greatly appreciated! Hope ye enjoy this small filler chapter chapter and don't forget to review. xxx

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It felt like days, weeks, maybe even months just lying in this darkness. Cold and empty, lonely and apathetic, nearly the same as her own life. In her state of mind all she could do was walk. Her breath was haggard as she continued forth into the depths of her sanity. Every now and then she would stop and listen the sharp squeaking and groaning from afar. Looking for the source was a fruitless effort.

As she walked she could see the faint flickering of a light bulb in the distance. Heather stopped just out of the light's range and stared at the figure sitting on a chair. The fickle dim glow was just enough to see that smile. Why was he still taunting her? He showed his teeth, his canines too sharp to be human. He held out his hand. "I don't want to hurt you."

_Don't trust him._

Who was that…?

"Go away and stay out of my head," Heather growled.

_It's already too late for that._

Stanley frowned. "Why would I do such a thing…?" he purred as he leaned forward.

_Wake up._

Who are you?

_Wake up now!_

"Is something wrong…?" Stanley asked. She felt weak at the knees and before she knew it she collapsed.

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Heather woke up from a searing pain in her forehead. At first, she struggled to open her eyes and her vision was blurry. She could barely make out the white tiles that were above her head. She eventually focused in on the cracks where they were slotted in. She could hear a slow and steady beeping and as she turned her head the realization sunk in. Heart monitor, the drip, the railings by the side of the bed and that choking clinical smell of antiseptic. She groaned as she carefully shifted her back into a more comfortable position. She brought her hand up, along with the I.V. line embedded into her skin. Ever so gently, she touched the bandage and hissed at the sharp pain. Plopping her arm down beside her she sighed.

'I hate hospitals,' she thought to herself as she rested her eyes.

The door opened and Heather's eyes opened as a male nurse walked in. He saw her and smiled gently. He had short blonde hair and a pair of thick glasses, he looked fairly young and she couldn't help but notice a small silver stud in his left earlobe. He was holding some notes when he entered which he placed on the table by the foot of the bed. "Heather Mason, is it?" he asked, taking off his glasses and hooking them into his chest pocket. His voice was light and crisp.

"Yeah," she grumbled as she tried to sit up but quickly stopped when he placed a gentle hand on her.

"You should take it easy," he said. "So how are you feeling?"

There was a knock on the door. "…Groggy and sore…" she replied as the door opened.

She gave a half smile as Douglas entered the white room. "Eh, sorry," he apologised, his voice as gruff as ever. "Will I come back some other time?"

"Douglas!" Heather exclaimed. "Come in."

The nurse looked down at her and smiled. "I'll leave you two alone, I'll check up on you again later." He excused himself and left them alone.

"Hey kiddo," Douglas sighed as he gingerly sat down beside her bed. "How are you holding up?"

"Douglas…" Heather began. "What happened…?" As if he knew the answer.

"You fell and hit your head off the sink," he explained. "You need to be more careful the next time you decide to dye your hair."

"Dye my hair…?"

"Yeah, you don't remember ?" He shook his head. "That said they think you got a concussion. You've been asleep for five days now."

"Five days…"

"You, eh, also got an infection since some of the dye got into the wound."

She looked at the mirror beside her and gasped as she saw her once blonde hair now stained in black. She looked just like her old self…

"Douglas…something's not right- "

She was cut off by his phone ringing loudly. He answered as she lay there listening to his grunts and occasional sentences. As soon as he got off the phone, he smiled at her sheepishly. "Sorry, duty calls. I'll come visit some other time." He patted her shoulder before leaving her.

As she tried to relax she couldn't help but notice a figure pass her window. "Must be my imagination…" she murmured.

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**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading and sorry for the shortness but this was only meant as a filler chapter.


	4. Soon We Will Be Together

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last time, it's good to see that quite a few people love this pairing.

**Lady Shizu: **Thank you for your continued support and yes I have indeed been there, several times actually and I know the paintings you're on about and I must say that is an interesting theory but to be honest I don't see how that would happen. Reason being that those two figures in their theory of how God was born was there long before Heather and Stanley were even born (I presume). Or are you on about the _actual _painting of them…? Sorry if I'm wrong.

Anyway, I hope all you enjoy this chapter.

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It's been a week since she woke up in the hospital. After a little bit of inquiring she finally found out how she got there in the first place. A colleague at work had tried visiting her when she hadn't been answering the phone; apparently she was worried when Heather didn't turn up for days. She thought it was nice, to say the least, that someone whom she rarely spoke to was genuinely concerned. However that idea was quickly squashed when the more cynical part of her suggested that her bastard of a boss ordered her to find out what the story was otherwise he's fire her sorry ass.

Heather sighed as she shifted her head deeper into to the pillow, tugging the covers up to her chin as she felt a chill. She stared at the window intently, wary of the fact that the fog was obscuring the view of the rest of the town. She hated fog. In fact she didn't trust it. Hell, she didn't trust anything that much anymore; she always analysed things with suspicion, constantly cautious with her surroundings and everyone around her.

So now she lays motionless, staring up at the plain ceiling, glancing at the window in suspicion. A daily ritual since she woke up which she made sure to practice every five minutes. The past few days had been uneventful, at best. A nurse would check up on her and Heather would always study their faces, especially the female ones. Thoughts of their faces bloodied and contorted always crossed her mind as one would tend to her bandage, or her drip, or to see if she was alright. Always the same rituals, the same fears and the same boredom.

Heather yawned and stretched slightly, her mouth gaping as she seemed to let out her days' worth of pent up frustration with one mighty sigh. It was still quite early but the only thing that seemed to have anything interesting right now was the back of her eyelids. As they were beginning to hang heavy and shorten her line of sight, just from her peripheral vision she could have sworn she saw a dark figure.

Forcing her eyes to widen she snapped her head around and looked out the window. Whoever it was quickly ran away and Heather cursed under her breath. Flicking the bed sheets off of her body, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and hopped off. The soles of her feet were met with the hard cold floor as she grabbed hold of the metal frame holding the I.V. drip and walked over towards the door turning the knob and exiting the room.

Strange. The halls were empty and quite, even when she strode over to the receptionist's desk no one was there to tell her to go back to her room. A sense of uneasiness washed over her as she could hear noises from a distance. How could that be possible when no one was around? She listened intently to the numerous murmurs and bustling going on, however no matter how much she tried to figure what was going on, she couldn't decipher what they were saying. The sudden sharp sounds of small footsteps made her jump and Heather whirled around to see what caused it. For a split second she caught a glimpse of the dark figure running off.

"Wait!" Heather shouted, chasing after it while pulling the frame with her. Every corner she turned to the figure would disappear behind another. After six minutes of running she stopped and began to pant in the middle of the corridor. Deep heavy gasps slowly calmed back down to steady breathes. Heather looked back up to see if she could find any trace of the figure but to no avail. She groaned and began to rub her forehead. "What's wrong with me…?" she mumbled. "Maybe I'm finally cracking up from being inside he- "

Crash.

Turning around she watched as a tin can came rolling towards her and stopped as it reached her feet. As she crouched down to pick it up she wondered why a food tin would be here in the Patient Ward. Heather looked at the top of it to find out that it was still sealed. Without much thought she hooked her finger underneath the opener and pulled off the cover. The tin dropped as Heather screamed, frantically trying to brush the large cockroach-like creature off her arm. The insect collapsed on its back, snapping its teeth up at Heather as she lifted the frame up and crushed it.

Her heart was beating faster as she removed the frame to reveal the squashed and broken body of the insect surrounded by a small glumpy green mess. She gingerly stepped over the small corpse and stopped in her tracks as she saw another creature limp from the shadows. Twisted in its own warped and mottled flesh. It screeched and cried as it jerked, Heather grinded her teeth and stepped back slowly, grimacing when she felt and heard the squish from stepping on the insect's insides. The armless monster fastened its pace, the lights now starting to flicker. When it was at what she still thought was a safe distance, the monster's torso began to convulse as a slit opened up in the middle of it and threw a large squirt of some black substance at her. Heather jumped back and gazed down nervously at the floor as it began to corrode. She attempted to lift up her frame but it was too heavy and awkward to use as a weapon. There was only one other alternative.

She ignored the pain when she ripped the needle from her hand and ran past the monster as it was preparing another attack. She turned the corner only to find another one waiting for her. She grunted as she sprinted, wishing she had that radio to warn her from any 'surprises'.

_Head to the main entrance._

That voice entered her skull again but she ignored it when she found a fire exit. Her body nearly crashed into the metal door and tried to push it open only; locked. Heather groaned and started to run again, as she passed the fourth corridor she caught another glimpse of the dark figure. She stopped a few seconds to check if it wasn't another one of those freaks. However it was too far away to tell exactly who or what it was.

_This way, you're almost there._

Heather followed it as it ran and couldn't help but notice the air becoming heavy again. 'Shit,' she thought as the lights flickered more dangerously now.

_Hurry, before it's too late!_

The paint on the walls began to peel off and Heather's ears rang from the howls and screeches. As the halls of the hospital quickly changed into a place that was completely unrecognisable. Her blood ran cold when she heard that voice. _His _voice.

"Heather," Stanley sighed, his body still covered in blood. "It's almost time."

"Stay away from me!" she screamed, glaring at him as he advanced. "I want nothing to do with you!"

He smiled, seemingly unfazed by her comment. "I know your nervous sweetheart, but that will soon fade," he spoke softly, almost in a dream-like daze. "Soon you _will be mine_," his voice grew dark. He lunged at her and grabbed her waist. He was strong, almost supernaturally strong as she thrashed and bit. Heather couldn't help but notice him shiver with what seem like ecstasy when her teeth sunk into his skin and trembled at the thought. A hole opened up leading into darkness, a portal she thought grimly. She took one last look at the end of the corridor as she continued to scream. The dark figure stood there staring at them, shaking its head.

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**Author's Note: **I'm considering using the in-game names for some of the monsters just to fully distinguish between them. And yes I do know the Lying Body is from the second game but I was just thinking with its symbolism towards hospitalization that it would fit both Heather and Stanley's psyche? What do ye think? Also, I'll be creating my own monsters in future chapters and they also shall be heavily symbolic to the story and characters. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed and please review.


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